A Very Sad 'Kíli's Childhood' Story
by Bronwyn O'Reilly
Summary: A story about a very sad affliction, a very sad adolescent and a very sad adventure. Bring tissues.


**A Very Sad 'Kíli's Childhood' Story**

Kíli was accident prone.

It was a terrible affliction, one which had lost him much love during his childhood, until finally one day his uncle Thorin sat him down and said, "Kíli, we have had enough. You have broken enough bones, you have fallen down enough deep pits, and you have had enough training accidents. We, your family, have decided that from now on you are not to touch anything, ever again, without adult supervision."

Kíli was very sad, and moped around the house for days. Such was his grief that nothing his family could say or do helped at all.

"I am very sad," he declared one day. "Nobody loves me. Mama will not let me help her in the house, Dada will not let me help him in the mine, Uncle will not let me help him in the forge, and Fíli will not let me help him with his training. I will run away."

Unfortunately for Kíli, his big brother Fíli heard him saying this, and quickly intervened. "Don't be stupid, Kíli. Everybody loves you! You can't run away, what would we do without you? You may be clumsy – "

"I broke my arm when looking after Arrow."

" – and you may be a household hazard – "

"I set fire to myself when helping Mama cook."

" – and you may have more accidents than anyone else your age – "

"I have broken eleven bones and fractured fifteen."

" – but you are my brother, and I love you."

"I am still dangerous. It would be better if I left. You clearly don't need me." Kíli's soulful brown eyes brimmed with tears, but he dashed them away bravely. He had to do this in order to keep his family safe from him. He would rather die than see them get hurt by his own clumsiness.

"Kíli, you are just growing. I was clumsy when I was your age," Fíli argued reasonably, but Kíli wouldn't listen. "Oh, come on, Kíli. Don't be stupid."

"But I am stupid. I am stupid and clumsy and I will never be as good as you at anything." With that said, Kíli grabbed his bag – which he had already packed, because he was very prepared – and ran away.

It was very anticlimactic. He had expected someone to stop him, but all his mother said was, "I hope you packed warm things. It's cold at night these days."

His father ruffled his hair and absently told him that there were toffee apples at home.

Uncle Thorin just grunted.

The Blue Mountains were very dangerous, according to Uncle Dwalin, so Kíli made sure he ran straight into the heart of them. It would be difficult, living alone as a hermit, but he would have to manage. His family would be in terrible danger from him otherwise.

He found a nice cave and sat down inside, taking off his rucksack and tossing it in the corner. The vibrations set off a small cave-in, which buried his pack and hit him in the head. It was very painful, but Kíli was a brave Dwarfling and didn't cry at all. Not one bit.

"I will live here for ever and ever," he said firmly. "No one will be able to find me, and no one will get hurt because of me."

He went outside to take a look at the area, and a tree branch promptly fell on his head and knocked him out.

When he woke up, he found that some beast had snuck up on him and eaten his boots. Or, at least, nibbled on them slightly. It was very strange.

He moved back to the cave to see if he could rescue any of his belongings, but tripped on a stone and fell down the hillside, resulting in more blunt, physical trauma and the loss of his gloves.

After a long, arduous climb he made it back up to his Hermit Cave. Using what little he had, he made a place to sleep and took the remains of his boots off before lying down. He had forgotten to pack warm things, and was very cold. The next morning he woke to find that he had hypothermia.

"I must find a different shelter!" he said, putting the remains of his boots back on.

He spotted a tall, sturdy looking tree and decided to climb it to get a better view of the area. This was a Very Bad Idea, and resulted in a sprained ankle and a fractured arm. However, on the bright side, Kíli also spotted a plume of smoke from the North, which was a sign that someone was living there and might be willing to give him shelter.

This was, unsurprisingly, also a Very Bad Idea and resulted in getting stabbed in the shin by a paranoid farmer. Precisely what that farmer was farming in the middle of a mountain range Kíli never found out.

He walked for hours, dragging his injured limbs behind him. Eventually he became delirious, and staggered to and fro and to and fro and to and you get the point. He staggered back down the mountain, he staggered through the forest, he staggered past his Hermit Cave and he staggered straight back home.

Uncle Thorin grunted.

His father patted him on the head and told him that the toffee apples had all been eaten.

His mother scolded him for not packing warm things and for losing his gloves and boots.

"You were right," Fíli said when Kíli came up to him. "You are stupid."

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run away."

Kíli looked very desolate and heartbroken, so Fíli was kind and didn't tell Kíli that he had eaten the rest of the toffee apples while he was away. So great was the extent of their brotherly love that Fíli even let Kíli borrow his gloves until he got new ones.

"I suppose you want to yell at me now," Kíli said.

"Yes, I do. But I'm not going to."

"Really?"

"No."

And so Fíli yelled, and Kíli pouted, and all was well.

Until Kíli had another Very Bad Idea, but that's another story.

**A/N: I do not own the Tolkien Estate. This is just a parody of what appears to be a recurring trend among Little Durin stories. Please do not kill me, I'm too pretty to die.**

**- Bronwyn**


End file.
